


Let's Take A Drive

by combefemme



Series: Something Like Family [7]
Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-05
Updated: 2013-04-05
Packaged: 2017-12-07 13:22:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/748970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/combefemme/pseuds/combefemme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lydia texts Isaac after a fight with her mother. Derek answers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's Take A Drive

**Author's Note:**

> Occurs after all previously posted installments.

Lydia slams the front door on her way out, cutting her mother off halfway through her tirade. Her words followed her, though, as she stomped her way down the front walk, ringing in her head and only making her angrier.

“You've been spending a lot of time with that Lahey boy,” she'd started, innocuously enough, as they sat down to dinner.

“I'm tutoring him,” Lydia had replied simply.

Her mother scoffed. “He sure seems to need a lot of tutoring.”

Lydia hadn't liked the implications of that. “He's not dumb,” she defended. “He's just had a rough time lately and needs help catching up.”

“Speaking of which,” her mother said. “Don't go getting too close to him. I don't trust that boy.”

“You don't know him,” Lydia answered.

“I don't need to,” he mother said as if Lydia was missing something obvious. “He was arrested for murder, Lydia.”

“He was innocent,” she said.

“He escaped police custody,” her mother went on.

“Because he was innocent,” Lydia said again. _And because he can't be locked up. Because he feels like the walls are closing in and he can't breath and it would have killed him if he didn't get out._

Her mother had hummed, as if she didn't quite believe that. “Either way,” she said. “The police thought he was capable of it.”

“They were wrong,” Lydia replied through gritted teeth.

“You know his mother killed herself,” her mother said suddenly.

It threw Lydia for a loop. “Yes.” The anniversary of her death had been just over two weeks ago and when Isaac hadn't appeared at school that day Lydia had gone looking for him. She'd found him in his bed and he had curled into her arms so easily and she hadn't known what to do or say so she'd just held him until he fell asleep.

“I'm just saying,” her mother said. “That boy has problems.”

Lydia had seethed at that but didn't say anything, trying to tamp down her anger.

“You used to have such good friends,” her mother had gone on, off-handedly. “It's such a shame about Jackson.”

And that had been the last straw for Lydia. How dare her mother compare Jackson to Isaac?

Jackson, who had never treated her half as well as Isaac did on a bad day; on a full moon when his fuse was shortest or when he'd been up all night, plagued by nightmares and didn't want anyone to touch him or talk to him or even look at him and he was so easily defensive. Because even on those days, Isaac would find a way to make Lydia smile and apologize no matter how many times she told him he didn't need to and that she understood and that it was okay.

Jackson, who had been the only other person in the world to know what was really going on behind closed doors at the Laheys and had never said a word; had just let it go on and on because it wasn't his problem. He could have saved Isaac – his classmate and teammate – a thousand times with just a few simple words and never bothered.

And wasn't it just so ironic that her mother thought Isaac was the one with problems when Jackson's issues had been so deep-seeded that they'd been enough to turn him into a real monster?

Lydia had just pushed herself away from the table, snatching her jacket off the back of her chair, and stomped out of the house. Her mother had called after her, but Lydia had ignored her, not caring about what she had to say anymore.

Out on the street, Lydia doesn't feel any calmer. She's not paying any real attention to where she's headed and ends up sitting on the swings at the park a couple blocks from her house. She digs her phone out of her pocket and texts Isaac.

_Can you come meet me?_

Not even a minute later her phone buzzes and when she looks at the screen she sees Isaac's name flashing on her caller ID.

She flicks it open and lifts the phone to her ear. “Hey.”

“Lydia?” a voice that is distinctly not Isaac's replies.

“Derek?” she asks.

“Yeah,” Derek replies. “Isaac's not home. Looks like he forgot his phone.”

She sighs. “Great.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she says, trying to sound chipper. “Yeah. It's nothing.”

“Where are you?” he asks.

“Uh, the park by my house,” she answers. “Look, Derek, I'm okay. It's--”

“Stay there,” he cuts her off before abruptly hanging up.

She glares at her phone when she pulls it away from her ear but doesn't leave.

XxXx

A few minutes later a pair of headlights sweep across the playground as the camaro pulls into the parking lot. Lydia rises from her swing and makes her way over, sliding into the front seat next to Derek.

“So, what's going on?” he asks as he puts the car in reverse and pulls out.

It's the first time she's been alone with Derek, she realizes. At least, the first time she remembers; the first time when she wasn't being possessed by the ghost of Derek's psychotic dead uncle.

“Nothing,” she answers.

“You're lying,” Derek says though it doesn't sound like an accusation, just a statement of fact.

She sighs. “I got in a fight with my mom.”

“What about?” he asks, taking a turn.

“Where are we going?” she questions.

“Scott's,” Derek replies and when she gives him a questioning look he says, “That's where Isaac is. What'd you and your mom fight about?”

She stares down at her lap. “Isaac.”

Derek turns to look at her and the protective look in his eyes makes her want to throw her arms around his neck and squeeze him. “What about him?”

“Mom doesn't like him,” she says.

He gets this look on his face for a second like he can't understand how anyone can not like Isaac. “Does she know you two are seeing each other?”

Lydia shakes her head. “No.”

“Why is that?”

She shrugs. “No one knows. Except you and Stiles.”

“Why is _that_?”

“Because it's none of anybody's business,” she snaps. “I've already had one relationship where everybody and their uncle thought they were entitled to know what was going on in my love life and I'm not doing it again.”

“So,” Derek begins and he doesn't sound at all understanding, Lydia notes. “You're making Isaac sneak around and lie to his friends because of... Jackson?”

Lydia buries her face in her hands. “No,” she answers, but then really thinks about it all. “I mean, maybe? A little bit? But mostly no.”

She looks up at Derek from between her fingers. They're stopped at an intersection and his face is illuminated in red light. He's clearly waiting for her to start making some sense.

She sighs. “It's just that I know what people are going to say when they find out about us,” she says more articulately. 

“Who's going to say what?” he asks as they start moving again.

“The kids at school,” she answers. “I know what they're going to say about me and about Isaac and about us being together.”

“And what's that?” he asks.

“They'll compare him to Jackson,” she answers.

Derek scoffs. “There's nothing to compare.”

“They do kind of look alike,” Lydia concedes and Derek gives her a dubious look. “Well, not a lot. But they're both tall, blonde, blue eyes. The similarities are definitely there. And while _I_ know that all that means is that I might just have a physical type, that's not what everyone else will think.”

“What will they think?” Derek asks, clearly not impressed with any of Lydia's excuses.

“They'll think I'm trying to replace Jackson,” she answers quietly.

Derek's quiet for a moment before he asks, “Are you?”

Lydia's head snaps up to look at him. “No!” she exclaims, appalled that he would even ask.

Derek just shrugs. “We were all there that night, Lydia. You loved Jackson.”

She lets out a breath, long and slow. “Yeah,” she says. “I did. But we were never good together. I couldn't be myself around him, not really. And that meant I couldn't be myself around anyone. Jackson was a star athlete. He was popular and so was I and that's the only reason we started dating. Behind closed doors it became something deeper than that, but it was never really real. It was all a facade. The girl Jackson loved didn't exist and, honestly, probably the boy I loved didn't either. I was afraid that the real me wasn't someone he could love and Jackson was afraid to love at all. It wouldn't have lasted, even if he hadn't left. Not in the long run.”

Derek is silent for a long moment after that. “And with Isaac?”

Lydia feels herself smile. “With Isaac it's all different,” she tells him. “He doesn't care about all the stupid high school politics and I don't have to pretend.”

He's giving her an odd look, watching her for longer than someone with normal human reflexes and senses would be able to safely do. After a second the corner of his mouth quirks up, almost knowingly, and he turns back to the road. She wonders what it is he's sensing from her; what emotions she's broadcasting at him when she talks about Isaac. Whatever they are, he seems pleased with them.

“So why all the secrecy?” he asks. “You're just worried about what people will think of you?”

“No,” she shakes her head. “Not me. There's always some rumour or another going around about me. I learned to stop caring about that a long time ago.”

“Then why?” Derek asks.

“Because of Isaac,” she says. “Because people are going to say that I'm just on the rebound and compare him to Jackson and people are going to be whispering about him behind his back and he'll hate it. I know he will. He hates being the centre of attention and he hates feeling judged. I don't want to put him through that. He doesn't deserve it.”

They pull up in front of Scott's just as she finishes talking and Derek turns to look at her, his eyes softer than she's ever seen them. He looks like he wants to say something but eventually he just nods and holds out Isaac's cell phone.

“Tell him to call when you want a ride home,” he says. “You can stay over tonight if you still don't want to go home.”

“Thanks, Derek,” she replies, taking the phone. She opens the door and climbs out, but turns and leans back down when Derek calls her name.

“Isaac's tough,” he tells her. “And I can guarantee you he's been through worse than the Beacon Hills High rumour mill.”

Lydia sighs and nods. “I know,” she says before straightening up again, closing the door, and making her way up the McCall's front walk.

**Author's Note:**

> This installment is possibly my favourite so far.
> 
> You guys should all come hang out with me on [tumblr](http://www.lydiamlahey.tumblr.com).


End file.
